Discover your past- Reclaim your future: Clara's Story
by TaylorSullivan
Summary: Clara has lost her past. It has been stolen from her and she doesn't know how to find out who she is. But there's something more important going on than just her problems. WICKED is returning and she must help find out why.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Fluorescent lights veer overhead. I can smell sweat and blood, and feel my stomach lurching. There are people in here with me, doctors and nurses hurrying for some reason. I struggle to get up, but I'm tied to this table. One of the doctors sees I'm awake and walks over to me. "Clara, it's alright, you're fine." I can't make out her face, everything's starting to blur, but I fight against it. "Where am I? Why can't I remember…?" I trail off, and I feel I'm losing myself again. Suddenly my thoughts click and I remember faintly something…but if I go back under I know I'll forget. "Where is he? There was someone else, where is he?!" The lady seems somewhat perturbed, and doesn't reply. I panic and begin screaming wildly at her. She sticks a needle in my arm and I lose consciousness.

I open my eyes. Yes, I'm still here in this white cell. I wipe the sweat off my forehead. Those dreams plague me every night, all that's left of a past that's lost to me. I don't know where I am or who I am, all I have are those nightmares, and I know they're memories. I lean against the whitewashed cement and close my eyes. There's something in my mind, a shadow of someone who was everything to me, and they were taken away. I feel as if my life isn't worth living anymore. I tried to kill myself a day ago, but two people in white masks and jumpsuits came in and stopped me. I think I'm an experiment of smoking, but that's all the value I have to them. I can feel myself drifting back into oblivion, and I know it's useless to struggle. It's as if I can hear them calling, all my memories, so I must get them back.

—

I awake to the cell door opening loudly and a woman stepping in. She's been here before, every morning. "How are you today, Clara?" She asks. I don't answer. When I first woke up here she was the first person I saw, and I was so afraid and confused and she wouldn't answer any of my questions—so I ended up cussing her out. Ever since I feel terrified when she comes to see me. She whispers something to her assistant and approaches me. I shrink against the wall. "Clara, there's nothing to be afraid of. Very soon you won't have to be here anymore, and you will be in the outside world. When you are there, I want you to remember something for me. Wicked is good, Clara." She turns and leaves. _What does she mean, I will leave this place? What is the outside world like?_ My brain tries to make sense of it all, but more than anything else I hear her last words: _Wicked is good._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Their face is blurred. But I can still feel them there beside me. "Clara, it's gonna be okay. I promise."

I wake up in the middle of the night sweating from another dream. I'm so confused and lost here. I can't understand the dreams of memories, it's like mental agony. I beat against the white tiles of my cell until my forearm is bruised and bloody. I then crumple into the fetal position on the floor. It's as if I've lost everything I am. I don't close my eyes, fearing sleep and the dreams. But I don't want the agony of being awake either. I just want to die. I close my eyes for a moment, and the fog clears away some. _I need to escape,_ I think to myself. _I must get out of here or I'll lose my mind!_ My brain starts working wildly and I drag myself over to the door of my prison. There's no way for me to get the screws on the hinges out except with my hands. _Oh well,_ I think. I'm desperate. I begin the slow and agonizing process of removing the screws until my hands are raw and bloody, and even then I don't stop. It's like there's a force beyond my own will at work.

Eventually I get both hinges removed. The lock is still on the door so I precariously position it, hoping it won't fall. _Please don't screw this, _ I think towards the door.

I step out of the cell into unknown territory. A hallway lined with tiny lights at the ceiling and the floor. No one's here, so I decide to quietly try to find a way out. I'm surprisingly not afraid at all, somehow numbed by the nightmare. I slip off the white socks on my feet and precariously tiptoe down the hallway. There's several doors on the corridor, and I try them but they're locked. I continue silently, feeling like a burglar in a movie or something, and I don't hear anything. _Nothing. At all._ I see the hallway end and there's a turn. Or at least, I think it's a turn. Until I take it. And I see it's a library. It's huge. Full of of books lining every wall of the octagonal room, and tables in rows with some kind of science equipment. I step into the room out of curiosity. _I can get out quick, after I have a look._ I touch one of the tables, and the dust is thick, like no one's been here for years. _Oh my gosh. Have I been asleep that long? Have I been hallucinating?_ I take a good look around the room. _I've been gone for years._

Suddenly a voice scares me out of my thoughts. "Who the hell are you?" it says from the shadows. _I've been caught,_ my racing heart screams at me. "I asked a question. Are you gonna just stand there looking at the ground. "I—I—" I begin to become hysterical and I try futiley to keep it together. "I don't know!" I finish in a whimper. I'm so afraid and confused I can't even think! The owner of the voice steps out of the shadows. It's a boy, older teenager I'd say. "Is that right?" He asks suspiciously. "I swear, I was in a cell. I don't know who I am or where I come from!" I'm defending myself viciously now, but I stop as I see a look of recognition flashes across his plain face. "I know you." I shake my head. "I have no idea." "You said you can't remember anything?" "Yeah, there's these people who were looking at me-" He stops me. "Wait. There's people- here?" I nod. _I thought so._ "This place is abandoned." He steps forward slightly. "Did they say anything to you? Anything that sounded strange?" I nod. "Yes. One woman. WICKED is good." There's a silence for a moment, and then, as if on cue, the sound of a crash comes from down the hall. My heart stops, and I'm pretty sure his does too. "Oh shit. The door."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Silence falls as the echo of the door falling fades away. The boy turns to me with a look of disdain and disgust. "You…idiot!" He hisses. "What the hell were you thinking?" I get mad instantly. "I'm just trying to escape from this hellhole, dumbo! I mean, what do you think I'm doing here in the first place?" The boy sighs and hangs his head, but I perk up, hearing the sound of footsteps. Several of them. "They heard us!" I whisper. "Do you know a way out?!" He nods and runs towards an exit door that I haven't noticed. I follow him quickly, and as my fear wipes away the cloudiness, I feel a rush of adrenaline that I can't say I'm not enjoying. The boy runs through the exit and shuts the door quietly behind him. We are now enveloped in complete darkness. "Well?" I whisper. "Shhh." The boy grabs me at the waist and pulls me back from the now shut door. I stifle my breath as I hear the people enter the library. "Not in here," I hear a muffled voice say outside, and the footsteps echo away. I sigh in relief. The boy releases his grip on my waist and I turn to face him in the darkness. "Who are you anyway?" "Gally's the name. I'm not supposed to be here. I was supposed to be in Paradise. You probably don't remember, but there's this disease thing called the flare. Me and some others were immune, so we were leaving for a better place. But there isn't one. It's all over the world. There's no escape. There's a rumor, though, that the people who originally spread it—that they had a cure. And now it's property of WICKED." I stop him. "Wait—so WICKED is an organization?" "Yes. I came back to see if this place were still in ruins like we left it. I would've thought it were if you didn't creep up on me." I laugh a little. "I don't really have a clue about anything you're saying, but—" I feel a resolve inside of me growing. "If you're against the bastards who stole my life from me, I'll help you. I just want to get back, to know where I belong, even if it's gone now. At least I'd have the memory." There's a solemn silence for a moment. "I know how you feel. If they were testing you, like they did me and others, then I know exactly what you mean." I can feel a tear forming on my cheek, still feeling that emptiness, that gaping hole in my heart yearning for someone who was taken.

After about half an hour of sitting in the silent dark, I can feel Gally get up. "Come on, I think it's safe now." As far as I can tell, we're in a tunnel. I don't know where I'm going, or really why, but part of me has resigned myself for some reason to trust this person. I follow him slowly until he stops, and I hear him open a door of some kind. A sudden gush of wind rushes over me, and it smells like outside. I don't know how I can know that, I have no memory of my own of the outside world, but somehow I know how it works. I'm like a machine of information. All information except what I need. I rouse myself out of my reverie as I see in the dim light Gally motion for me to follow him outside.

The moon is out. The sky is clear. Stars shine down brightly on us. The wind sweeps over me like a refreshing wave of cool water. And I look around at the desolate wasteland we're in. My jaw drops. "Where the hell are we? How is this possible?" Gally looks into my eyes. "This is the Earth, Clara."

I jerk my head up and look at him. "What did you call me?" He shrugs. "Clara. It's your name." "Yeah, I know that. But how did _you_ know that. I sure as hell didn't tell you." He cocks his head. "I think I know you. A distant memory maybe. I don't know how I did that. But I did." I turn away. This whole scenario is weird beyond description. Then I think of something. "Gally, if there were people in that place," I point to the doorway into the underground hide, "how could it look so old?" He sighs. "It's an old trick of theirs. They can do stuff to make things look different to you. It's hard to explain." "Mind control." I spit the two words out like it's an abomination. "Yes." He slowly answers. "Well then let's get the shit outta here dude! I didn't escape for no reason!" I feel the urge to get as far away from this place as I can. "Do you have transportation across this desert?" He smiles annoyingly. "No. We're walking."


End file.
